


follow you

by na_scathach



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: :(, Catholic Guilt, First Kiss, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Not Canon Compliant - The Trials of Apollo, One Shot, Pining, help I wrote this in a day I'm a tired ahhh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-26
Updated: 2021-01-26
Packaged: 2021-03-18 13:35:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28993044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/na_scathach/pseuds/na_scathach
Summary: jason grace and leo valdez go searching for the goddess of pain in a midwestern town in june and figure out a few things
Relationships: Jason Grace/Leo Valdez
Comments: 17
Kudos: 75





	follow you

**Author's Note:**

> hihihi. new work. am v tired when typing this up. any spelling mistakes will be corrected in the morning. this was fun to write after writer's block for a while and i hope you enjoy. 
> 
> TW: discussion of catholicism and catholic guilt. that's it but if you want me to tag anything else let me know!!

Jason cannot say for sure what they're doing here. 

He got a tip-off that an old shrine to Poena was located in some tiny town in Illinois, just a few hundred miles from the border between Illinois and Tennessee. The kind of town that had low, boarded-up buildings and seemed to be trapped in this slow, decaying hell. Dusty roads and a dusky sky, the roads disappearing under the long, unending horizon. It was Jason's job, as Pontifex Maximus, to find the shrine and bring it to New Rome. Or something like that. Probably. What if Poena is happy here? Should they move her? Or would repairing and commissioning a Pain Shrine in a town with a few hundred people in the middle of nowhere be too weird?

"What the hell is a shrine for the goddess of pain doing in Illinois? What about the Midwest screams _pain and_ _suffering?_ "

Leo asks, squinting at the screen of his phone, attempting to see the online map through the glare of the midday sun. It's mid-June and the heat is sticky and oppressive like the warmth is caramelizing the air they're breathing. Jason doesn't mind it, but it certainly isn't _comfortable_. Leo, however, sinks into the heat, like a cat that's been left out in the sun for too long. He looks annoyingly fine. Jason scoots more into the shade of the shop they're waiting outside and hopes that they stumble across the shrine soon enough. 

Leo grumbles some more and looks up from his phone, eyes scanning the street as if the shrine would have a neon light above it. "Where _would_ you hide a shrine here?" he asks and Jason isn't sure if it's rhetorical or not. 

"Probably in a place of immense pain and suffering? Somewhere that's historically a place where Poena would inhabit?" and Leo snorts, pocketing his phone and moving into the shade with Jason. 

"Well, nearest public school is about an hour from here but ole Nemmy said it was _here,_ this town, this street, and I don't think old _mom and pop_ stores and two bars are hotspots for brutal torture of the human soul" and Leo sinks to the ground as he says this, back against the wall of the shop and legs akimbo. 

Jason hums non-committedly, eyes skipping over the boarded up shops and the low, unassuming buildings that line the street. There really isn't anything here that would indicate _pain._ Anything that Jason can see, anyway.

"Maybe we should go from building to building?" Jason asks, rolling his bottom lip between his teeth, "See if anyone knows anything?"

Leo laughs, loud and bright, "And what would we say? ' _Morin' Miss, y'all seen any hubs of pain and sufferin' lately? Any roman gods? Especially those of the torturing kind?'_ Cause that'll go down real smooth. We totally won't get arrested".

"Well," Jason starts, "We could just- imply we're looking for something. That includes torture. We don't have to explicitly say we're looking for the roman goddess of pain"

Leo goes silent for a minute. He turns his head up so that he's looking at Jason. 

Leo looks a lot older than he did the first time they met, 15 years old and in the back of a school bus, with no idea how their lives were going to change. Did Jason know then, that he would end up caring so much about the scrawny kid in the seat in front of him?. At 15, Leo was scrawny and young-looking, almost babyish. Leo is still scrawny, but his face is leaner, his hair shorter and he's even grown a bit. Not a lot, because Leo pulled the short straw on the godly-genetic lottery, but he's now 5'6 to his previous 5'3. Leo's still Leo, of course. He's still the same goofy, scarily smart asshole he met on that bus. Not everything has changed, he comforts.

He's still Leo, still his best friend, but-

Leo cocks his head, brown eyes darker in the shade and it's like Jason is looking into the void, eyes as dark as spilled ink. Dark lashes frame his eyes, and he's-

"How," and he says this slowly, pulling out the words like toffee "would we do that? Without sounding like we're a few tools short of a toolshed, that is. Don't want the cops being called on us cause they think we're Satanists or something"

Jason swallows, looking away from Leo. Wow, those closed storefronts sure look interesting. 

"We could pretend to be doing a project? Like research?

Leo hums, and Jason keeps his eyes forward, leaning back against the wall, feigning being casual. "Sure," Leo decides, clambering up, stretching his hands above his head, "Fuck it, the worst that'll happen is that we'll get chased out of town! Or get murdered by some hillbilly with a rake. Kinda children of the corn-esque. They'll bury us and our only gravestones will be a wooden cross that reads ' _those two bizarre guys who kept asking about pain and torture in our local 7/11_ '" 

Jason laughs, caught off guard, and watches Leo skip back into the sun. He looks better under the sun. The son of Hephaestus' dark skin turns into molten bronze, his black hair haloed by the light, like something holy, like something unfamiliar and terrifying and _amazing_ -

Jason is a stranger to religion, but if he had to imagine what angels looked like, Leo Valdez might not be too far from it. 

They start in the local 7/11, which is only manned by some bored teen that takes a lot of interest in Jason, which was weird. She was barely faxed by their questions of 'Is there anything interesting in this town's history?' 'of the torturing and/or pain variety, please' ' _leoshutup_ '. Sadly, she was clueless and told them to ask the local Father.

"Father?" Jason's brow furrowed, "Like your dad?"

The girl, who has no name tag but does have pretty brown eyes and thick, long dark brown hair with dusky skin, tilts her head at him. Her mouth parts slightly, her eyes drifting to Leo like she was asking ' _what the hell is wrong with him_?'. 

"I'm sorry," Leo smiles, pushing Jason slightly behind him, "He was dropped as a kid. Repeatedly. On his head. Anyways, so this guy might know something?"

The girl shrugs, "Sure, maybe," she says, leaning her head on her palm her eyes appraising Leo for a minute, "Padre knows a lot about the town, did some study on it a couple of years back, way before I moved here"

Leo grins, nudging Jason with his elbow slightly as if to tell him ' _see! we got something!_ '. "Thanks so much," Leo gushes, grinning lopsidedly at her, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. 

Oh. 

Jason knows what's happening here. 

Lightning crackles in his chest, suddenly bearing down on him, and he clenches his fists behind him. Leo can flirt with whoever he wants to. Even if that doesn't include Jason. He has no right to get-to get _jealous._ They're just friends. 

This, somehow, hurts more than the flirting. 

They talk for a quick minute and the girl genuinely seems interested. Leo asks about how she ended up here, she gives a short, tight-lipped version and Leo makes some dumb joke about shitty middle-of-nowhere towns and she laughs. Bright and clear in the neon daydream of 7/11. 

Jason has never wished for a conversation to be over as hard as he did then. 

Leo jostles into him, and Jason moves out of the shop almost on instinct. 

"Oh man," Leo groans, grinning toothily, "she was so into me, dude. I even got her number- look!" and Leo brandishes a series of numbers on the front of his hand, black marker running over the visible tendons and right up to his sharp knuckles on Leo's left hand. "This quest fucking rocks, man, thanks for dragging me along!"

Leo literally skips off in the direction of the spire a few streets away, rising up and piercing through the blue sky like a knife. 

The sun is bearing down on Jason's head, he's sweaty and sticky and in love with his best friend who will never love him back.

This is the worst quest of Jason's fucking life. 

* * *

The church building is a lot cooler than the outside, which is its only upside. 

Jason has never been to a catholic place of worship before. He- hasn't been in any place of worship that isn't dedicated to the Hellenistic pantheon, to be honest. 

So _this_ is new. 

It smells musty like the air is stale and some kind of incense. The temples he's been in feel more alive, more moving less like-

"God, it smells like old people in here," Leo whispers into Jason's ear- or, well, it's more his neck, because Leo can't really reach any higher. Doesn't stop Jason from freezing, a shiver going through him. Leo's breath is warm and the faint feeling of Leo's lips on Jason's neck-

And it's over in a second, Leo moving away as if it didn't happen because it was normal because they're friends. 

Leo stalks through the main aisle, rows of wooden benches lining them. The floor is covered in tiles, in some kind of off-orange color. Though the sun spilling through the stained glass more than makes up for the color. It's dazzling, the patterns in red and green and gold that go spilling across the large chamber. 

It's deathly quiet and Jason notices only three other people in here as they move through the church. Two elderly people on the same bench and a middle-aged woman little ways at the back. She seems to be kneeling, head leaned on the bench in front of her, hands clasped. 

Other than that, it's just them. 

They stop at the top, where the benches stop and the alter begins, white marble meeting orange tiles. Leo shifts slightly, dark eyes darting around. He licks his lips, arms curling across his chest-

Leo's nervous.

Or- something. Uncomfortable, more like it. Like he doesn't like being here. Jason opens his mouth, maybe to ask if he's okay, or if they should leave, or what they should do next or-

Jason, very suddenly, feels a hand on his shoulder. 

He quickly snaps down on the urge to spin and stab at whatever has just grabbed him. He does squeak a little bit. 

Both Leo and Jason's heads snap to the figure who's grabbed Jason's shoulder and, there, stands an elderly man. Maybe 60s. Skin like wet paper and grey, stringy hair wearing a black shirt and black slacks, and some kind of- collar?

"Oh, my didn't mean to startle you boys- just don't recognize neither of y'all. You looking for something?"

Jason blinks at the man, and oh, right, he must be the Father, the Priest. He barely comes up to Jason's shoulder. He smells like an old man.

"Y-yeah, we are, thank you, _Padre,"_ Leo says, voice as softer than Jason thought possible. He steps so he's level with Jason. Jason has no idea what Leo is thanking the Priest for but Jason is a stranger in this lush, dusty religion, so he stays quiet. "We were wondering if we could as you some questions about the town, it's for a project-"

The priest's eyes widen slightly and he grins, showing off a few missing teeth. "Oh, I'd be obliged boys," and he, bless the gods, let's go of Jason's shoulder. Jason rolls his shoulder slightly as the old man gestures for them to follow him. 

Jason shrugs at Leo, who frowns in the priest's direction. 

"Let's go, sparky," and Jason has no choice but to follow him.

The Priest's office is off from the main chamber, a small, cluttered area that doesn't look like it gets many visitors. There's a window, not stained glass, a faded green carpet, and a few pictures of that guy, Jesus, and a few quotes. Some in Latin, which interests Jason for a few seconds, until he realizes they're just about some guy named paul or something. 

"Sit, please," the Priest says and Leo mumbles a thank you. He is. Weirdly quiet. Jason doesn't like it. Jason also says thank you because the wolves he was raised by were polite wolves. 

"Now," the man says, still grinning, murky green-blue eyes shining with interest through his thick grey eyebrows, "You boys want some information on the town? Y'all doing a project? Something for school?"

Jason nods quickly, while Leo says, "Yeah, we are,".

The man nods, "Of course, of course, you boys from the School in Anna? I've never seen either of you around here before".

Leo clears his throat, hands trapped between his knees, one of his knees going at a hundred miles an hour. "Yup, we have to do a small project on a local town for Civics and here seemed to be a good place to start. We were-"

"Good place to start?" and the Priest chuckles at this, eyebrows raising, "this town is a lot of things, but _a good place to start_ is not one of them,". Leo smiles tightly, and Jason is trying to find an excuse as to why they chose this town. Once again, roman pain goddess is not looking like a good option. 

"Michelle told us that you're a historian, so since we don't know any historians, we thought we might give this place a try before we try anywhere else" Leo lies, so smoothly that Jason almost believes it. 

But who in the name of Hades is _Michelle?_

"Oh!" and Leo visibly relaxes at the way the Priest deflates, "Michelle, what a lovely girl, I remember her communion, lovely girl, lovely family, of course," the Priest says, satisfied, hands folding on the desk and, oh. Right. The girl from 7/11. 

"Yeah, so we were just looking for any interesting points about the town? Anything that really sticks out. It can be anything! No matter how weird!" and Jason smiles pleasantly at the man as Leo talks. Just, act normal. Like a normal teen person. Yes. 

"Anything weird?" and the man sits back, face scrunching up like a dropped pancake and Jason resists the urge to iron it out with a flatiron. He's like a leather bag. "Hm. We're mostly normal, sadly, but if you're interested I could do some digging? It would take a while-"

"Do you have anything with a connection to Rome?" Jason blurts and frankly, he's pretty sure he just surprised himself. 

"Rome?" The Priest asks incredulously, eyebrows shooting up on his leathery face. 

"I'm sorry," Leo says, reaching over to grip Jason's arm, faux relaxed. Jason can feel Leo dig his bitten nails into the exposed skin of Jason's forearm. "My friend is just super interested in, yanno, Rome and s _h-sh_ - _uh_ -stuff. Real Rome-head. Sorry"

The Priest laughs, but it's noticeably tenser. "Well," The Priest says, "If Rome is what you want, I can show you something that apparently came from Rome?"

"Wait really?" Leo asks, eyes darting over to Jason, asking _did that really just happen?._ "Like. Something from like Italy or Rome-rome?"

"Well," and the Priest, "It's just a rumor, but the original founder of this church apparently had some artifact that came from Italy, but was old enough to be from the Roman Empire".

Jason shoots Leo a _look._ Leo shoots Jason back a _look._

"Would it be too much trouble if we saw this artifact?"

* * *

They're waiting in the pew closest to the alter, waiting for the Father to retrieve the artifact and Jason has never felt more out of place. Jason has been a member of both camps, has been to the First Nome, to Hotel Valhalla, to The Underworld, and back. He's been to the seat of power of his father and watched a primordial God be wiped out. 

This place? Feels more strange than anything he's ever seen. 

It's ancient and silent and stuffy. Filled with expectation, almost. Delicate glass and hard, uncomfortable seats and bright, too-clean marble and it all seems. Uninhabitable. Cold. Like Lady Hera's Cabin in CHB. This does not feel like it could be home to anyone. 

He can see candles in the distant corner, but they're obviously electric. 

His eyes drift around, so aware of the body slightly leaning against his. Leo is warm, warm like the bonfire at camp or warm like blood from a knife wound. He is so many things to Leo, Leo is so many things in himself but none of those things is something that Jason can just have to himself.

He looks at Leo. 

Leo's eyes are closed, head slightly drooped and hands clasped- oh. 

He looks different like this when he's praying. Jason wants to smooth out the lines between his eyes and ask him if he's okay. Leo's lips are moving slightly, mouthing words that will always be unfamiliar to Jason. He's speaking to something that Jason doesn't understand. 

He looks away. 

Leo does not belong to this place. Leo does not belong to Olympus. Leo does not belong to Jason, or Piper, or any of the people he tells himself that he falls in love with. Leo belongs to no-one. 

You cannot hold fire, you cannot claim it as your own. It will burn and create and burn again, regardless of who stands closest. Leo is a collapsing star in human skin and Jason is intimately aware that he is nothing compared to the boy who can burn gods to the ground. 

Jason is the forgotten son of Jupiter, more wolf than a boy. He is glad for the life he has carved out for himself, against all the odds. He is glad that he has not died yet. Jason thinks that he should have died a long, long time ago. 

But he hasn't. 

So, here he sits, on a summer day, in the middle of nowhere, in a church, leaning against the best friend he's fallen in love with, who's praying to a god that Jason doesn't understand, and that Jason doesn't think listens to the prays of very lonely half-gods. 

The Priest comes back and Leo startles upward, trying to hide what he was doing. "Padre," he greets again, smiling tightly. 

"Boys, I'm sorry but I cannot believe I did not do a formal introduction," The Father rushes out, holding some kind of- rectangular box. "I'm Father Jack Harper, though just Father Jack will do fine"

"I'm Jason," he tells the Father, trying to inspect the box, but it's covered in some kind of white gauzy material. "Jason Grace"

"Leo Valdez"

The Father nods and gently unwraps the box. It's faded by centuries, but it's decorated with gold and ornate roses. The roses look sharp to the touch, like Jason could slice his hand open if he touched it. It's very beautiful, despite its age and Jason has no damn clue if that's as a shrine. 

"Could we-ah, look at it? Please?" Jason asks, eyeing up the box. 

"Okay, but-" and The Father drops the surprisingly light box into Jason's outstretched hands, "-be careful. Very, very sharp"

Jason noticed, but he grunts in agreement. Leo moves closer and begins running his hands over it, searching for mechanisms, openings.

Jason is meant to be doing to same, but, Leo has long, talented fingers. Spindly and scarred and thin, skilled beyond all belief and Jason crushes the urge to press kisses along the veins climbing up his wrist, along his palm lines, along-

The number. 

It's smudged slightly, but it's _there-_

In the very, very far distance, Thunder groans and booms. 

No one heard it, and Jason sights on relief. 

"Oh, okay-" Leo says suddenly, and the Father, Father Jack, turns back from where he's fixing a set of actual candles under the large statue of that Jesus crucified to the cross. Leo digs his hand under one of the roses curling around the back, blood welling upon his fingers, and Jason feels a spark of fear erupt in his chest.

"Leo!" he startles but Leo gushes him, wincing slightly as he cuts himself across the sharp leaf of the rose. 

Blood drips onto the box and the front of it snaps open, the door swinging on a hinge. 

There is- nothing inside. 

Leo and Jason both peak in. Jason sees what remains of a tiny shrine, but Poena was a minor goddess and not all of them survived the transitions from culture to culture. 

"Well fuck me," Le mumbles, getting on the balls of his feet to peek in more, "Guess Pain went and died on us when we weren't looking"

* * *

They're sitting outside the 7/11 at 8 in the afternoon. Michelle has left her shift, her number is smudged on Leo's hand, Poena has gone on and Jason is tired. 

"This was a bust," he groans, flopping back onto the warm concrete behind him. They're in the parking lot of the deserted 7/11, waiting for Festus and Jason wants to go back to camp, shower, and then go to sleep. 

Leo grunts in agreement, but he seems- off? Since the church. Jason wants to ask him, comfort him, but Jason doesn't know how he would do that. Jason doesn't get it, the idea of owning something to a god, for feeling bad because of a god. 

The sun is starting to set and the neon of the 7/11 is flickering on, casting shadows over Leo. Almost like the stained glass in the Church, reds, and blues and greens swimming over Leo's bronze skin and loose grey t-shirt, staining his skin. It spreads up his long neck and into his black curls, where it absorbs the light. 

Jason, feverishly, thinks for a moment, that he's pretty sure he could create a pretty stable religion around Leo. 

He shakes the thought out of his head and turns his head, so he's starting up at the slowly appearing stars. 

"Leo," he starts, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure? What's up? Unless this is like that time you got super curious about conservation of energy and other tenants of physics, in which case, no, because explaining math to you hurts me physically"

Jason laughs, attempting to kick at Leo, who wiggles out of the way of Jason's leg. "No!" Jason says, eyes shining brightly, "No math this time. Just- curious"

Leo snickers, balancing his arms on his knees while he looks down at Jason. "Fine, go right ahead Peter pan. Hit me"

Jason considers his words, very carefully. 

Leo is very good at getting out of questions when he doesn't want to answer them. Very good at evasion and changing the topic. It's a talent, really.

"Are you okay?"

Leo laughs, but he sounds confused. "Uh, yeah, obviously? Why? Do I not seem okay?"

"You didn't in the Church, you seemed kind of-" he watches Leo tense, his shoulders pull tight, "sad, I guess. And stressed". 

"Sad?" Leo asks, asking with faux-confusion. "I'm happy as fuck, Grace. Over the moon. I'm all fine and dandy, baby" and he winks, and Jason is too worried to blush like he usually does. 

"Leo," he stresses, pushing himself upon his hands so that he can look into Leo's eyes. They're so dark that Jason couldn't find his way out even if he wanted to. "I'm serious. You can talk to me. I might not-" he frowns, "understand, but I don't want you to suffer in silence"

Leo looks at Jason. Jason looks at Leo. Jason tried not to blush. 

They're so close. 

Leo is sitting on the pavement, legs to his chest, chin on his knees, with Jason in front of him, having to twist himself to be able to look at Leo. 

"Do you know what the core tenant of catholicism is?"

Jason shakes his head. He does not. He grew up with the Roman wolf goddess after his mom left him, gave him up. 

Leo grins, teeth like liquid Mercury, and tells him, "It's hating yourself" and Leo smiles like a wolf after a successful kill, "It's believing that you have fucked up so badly by being born that you have to spend the rest of your life making up for it, that peace is only found in death, that you are capable of being born wrong, that being you is a sin. That's what I grew up in. For years I believed that y'know?. Then suddenly my dad was a Greek god and I didn't have to give two shits about the church, but what if I'm wrong? What if I do end up going to Hell? What if I'm fucked, Jace?"

Jason. Does not know what to say. There's so much there, it goes so deep, into Leo's bones, into his brain, telling him that he's done for, but Jason can't ignore him-

He pulls Leo into a hug. 

He shakes like a bare tree in winter and Jason holds on a little tighter, like he can keep Leo together with his hands only. 

"I'm sorry," he whispers into Leo's curls, "I'm sorry they made you think that way. But you're not a bad person Leo, and you're not going to Hell" and he wants Leo to believe this so badly, wants to push these words under Leo's skin but-

"What if I do?"

He sounds young. So much younger than the adults they pretend they are. They're 17 and lost and leading each other down a dark path no one can see the end of. 

"Then I'll go with you. I'll follow you, right down Leo"

It's quiet for a few minutes, while they stay in the hug. It's still warm and too sticky, even as night falls. The neon casts strange shadows over them, painting them both in holy shards. 

"I'm going to do something stupid, " Leo mumbles into Jason's t-shirt, "And you're going to hate me, but I'm going to do it anyway," and Jason wants to tell him that he'll never, not in a thousand years, hate Leo Valdez. That would be like gravity failing. Or the sun giving out. Or Piper not eating the last pizza slice. 

But before he can say anything, Leo has pulled back and bit. His long. dexterous fingers are still tangled in Jason's shirt and before Jason can do anything, ask anything, Leo has pulled Jason down to him and pressed his mouth to Jason's. 

Oh. 

Oh okay.

Jason's whole brain stutters for a moment. The world tilts and shifts and Leo presses his warm, chapped lips against Jason's. By the gods, he has soft lips. Jason lets his eyes flutter shut, moving his hands so that he was cupping Leo's jaw, and-

Okay, okay, so he's kissing Leo Valdez. 

Their mouths slot together, Leo's soft lips dragging against Jason's and Sweet Vesta, why had Jason not done this before? Jason grips Leo's face like he might turn to smoke if he isn't underneath Jason's hands and Leo drags him closer and closer. 

Leo kisses like he has something to prove to everyone else, or possibly just Jason's lips. He focuses all that brilliant genius on this one task, this one-act and fuck, Jason would kill to do this every day. Leo is brilliant and gorgeous and a good kisser. 

Leo parts his mouth slightly and Jason realizes, that there are a lot more things involved in kissing than he remembered.

It's wet and desperate and soft and the best kiss Jason has ever had in a tiny, deserted parking lot outside a 7/11 at 8 p.m. 

**Author's Note:**

> hi im @deithe on tumblr come say hi <3


End file.
